Silent guardian

Sherlock dismissed the red spot on his forehead.

"Do you think I will be afraid? No matter what, I will catch you."

"Oh." James spread his hands regretfully, "Then Watson John can only be buried with me."

"What did you do?"

Sherlock squeezed hard, and the muzzle of the gun buried another portion in James' forehead.

"He can't do anything."

Sherlock turned around, and Mora was walking from the other side of the carriage, holding a stack of sniper-specific guns in her hand, like a queen who had just returned from the battlefield.

"When did you,,,,,," Sherlock looked surprised.

Mora gave him a blank look, "You think those little tricks can trap me? But it took a lot of effort to solve these things."

With a sound of "crash", the messy guns hit James' feet. He lowered his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. After a while, he stood up, kicked away the obstacles under his feet very gentlemanly, picked up the white wine and handed it to James. To Maura, smiling, "Have a drink, one last dance."

"Mola!"

"It's okay, Sherlock, Lestrade and the others are outside, he can't run away." Mora took the wine glass in James' hand and took a sip.

Everything was so quiet, the sound of orderly footsteps outside the car seemed to be connected to a loudspeaker, and it reached Mo La's ears exactly.

James laughed, expressing his sincere joy for Mora's arrival.

"It's not right." Sherlock said softly to Mora, "Let's get out of here quickly."

Mora nodded, then turned and walked out.

James said softly behind her, "I didn't expect that you can do so many things in such a short time, it's really good."

Then, only a sound of "bang!" was heard, and the car door in front of Mo La was suddenly closed, isolating the flashing red lights in the distance. Not only this place, but all the doors and even the windows around were blocked Wrapped in a thick layer of metal, the body shook slightly.

Mora turned and saw the shocked look on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock's cell phone started to vibrate violently, and when he pressed the answer button, Lestrade yelled frantically, "Get out of the car, Sherlock! That lunatic installed a liquid bomb on it that could blow up a floor .”

Sherlock put down the phone in his hand and subconsciously went to look at Mora, only to see that she had picked up the sniper rifle on the ground and hit it towards the window. There were several muffled beeps, but there was no response.

James laughed again, "It's useless, I've got someone to try it, and nothing can destroy it except a bomb."

Sherlock's eyes flashed fiercely, and he pierced James' left shoulder with an extremely precise shot. It was a non-fatal wound, but the pain caused was very tormenting.He walked over and stepped on his wound, James was in a cold sweat from the pain, but there was indeed a satisfied smile on his face.

"This is the last play, 5 minutes to go, 5 minutes to go when the train will blow up under Westminster Abbey and the heart of Britain will stop beating with a bang, just like mine."

Mora stared at those eyes, and the shadow of death had already appeared. She held James' wrist, her heart was beating very weakly, she tore off the belt on the sniper rifle and wrapped it around his bleeding wound in twos and fives, the eyes suddenly Much softer.

"The last dance." Mora repeated this sentence, reminding herself and Sherlock.

James won't leave a way for himself, because he didn't even think about or go out.

"I won't let you succeed." Sherlock withdrew his pistol, pulled Mora up and walked into the carriage.

"A smart man like him must have bombs on every section, and these bombs will eventually converge into a point at the front of the car. That is the most critical place. We have to find it quickly, and then Stop the explosion."

"Are you sure?"

Sherlock paused, glanced at Moura quickly, pursed his lips and stopped talking.

It was a war without gunpowder, and their only opponent was time.

Mora and Sherlock explored almost every corner of the car, and every time a mysterious location failed, it was unintentionally a blow to them.

Sherlock calls Mycroft and asks him to mention preparing for an explosion.

"Sherlock, don't move, I have already seen that train, and set up checkpoints, hoping to intercept it halfway."

"Stop kidding, how can you intercept a maglev train? Don't tell me you sent Thor."

"It's already in the sky above you, and it's currently,,,,,," Mycroft's voice suddenly interrupted.

"Mycroft,,,,,," Sherlock glanced at the cell phone whose signal was interrupted, and threw it against the wall of the car. He rubbed his hair at a loss, and walked around in the car.

"Are we going to die here?" Mo La stopped him and asked.

"No." He took a sharp breath, "You must not just admit defeat like this." He stretched out his arms to hug Mo La, as if he wanted to gain some strength from her.

Mora hugged him too, and said softly, "We still have 2 minutes."

Death may not be such a terrible thing. When it does come, you will accept her calmly, because you cannot fight against it.

But Sherlock doesn't want to die, unless it is a last resort, he never wants to joke about his own life, besides, he is not alone now, he has someone he likes, and he wants to go with that person in the future.

"If we go out, will we move back to Baker Street?"

"what?"

Mora froze for a moment, startled by Sherlock's sudden and dramatic language.

"I said, when we go out, move back to Baker Street and live with me." Sherlock repeated patiently, "Oh, and John, of course, but you don't mind, he's just my roommate, and he lives Upstairs, it won't bother us."

Is this an invitation to her?

Sherlock showed a mischievous smile, "Of course, I can't say those words, you know, I'm Sherlock."

Maura stared at him, her head confused.

"Should I jump up and hug you like other women, and kiss you hard?"

"Oh, no need." Sherlock made an exaggerated expression, then leaned over to press a kiss on her lips.

Kissed again?

Before Mora could blush, she felt her hands tighten. Sherlock had already pulled her and ran towards the end of the carriage, "This is the last chance, we have to take a gamble."

"The rear of the car is the most fragile part of all structures. We only need to find the connection between it and the body, and then we can open a passage from here." Sherlock stood at the junction of the car and the car, and the pistol slammed a few times at the screw. Gun, Mora held a sniper rifle and fired all the bullets. Finally, a crack appeared on the rock-solid car body, and the low pressure caused by high-speed driving was enough to tear it apart from the atmospheric pressure outside the car.

"Wow!" A small mouth appeared.

"Are you ready?" Sherlock shot at Mora.

"Mola!"

A heart-piercing cry came out of James' mouth. He walked over and fell down five meters away from Mora and the others.

He has torn off the belt on his shoulders at some point, blood is soaked all over his body, his eyes are fixed on Mora, there is no hatred, no mockery, only peace, like a fawn whose throat has been bitten off by a lion, just like that Looked lightly.

Anyone who is looked at by such eyes will feel pity, and Mo La is no exception.

"Wait for me, it's all right."

Mora withdrew her hand, looked apologetically at Sherlock, then turned and ran towards James.

"Mola!"

Sherlock reached out, but didn't grab anything.

James glanced at him, and after just one glance, he fell into the ice cellar.

"Mola!"

He took a step, and the door in front of him closed with a "bang!", and the last thing he saw was Mo La's back.The cracks torn by the pressure expanded rapidly, and a crack was formed with a tearing sound. The carriage was like a piece of ice touching the ground, and it broke into two pieces, one section carried James and Mora, and the other section carried Sherlock.

James was smiling at him, a cruel but beautiful smile.

[Have you ever had heartache?

Has your heart been dug out and fried in a frying pan?

Has your heart been roasted over coals?

Has your heart ever been put back after experiencing all this?

Haven't you?I've been through it, Maura has been through it, and now it's up to you. 】

A strong wind surged from the crack and knocked Sherlock to the ground. He only saw the train carrying Mora retreating into the darkness like a ghost, and a force surged from his heart, dragging him into the darkness into the abyss of chaos.

The author has something to say:

Finally confessed, although what he said was ridiculous, but he was Sherlock.

'Thor' is the latest fighter developed by the UK, so I borrowed it.

James, do you want to let him hang up like this?

Chapter [-] The Belgovia Scandal